Turned
by Zphal
Summary: After failed evac, Nick and Ellis settle down in Baton Rouge. Six months later, Ellis contracts the infection, which slowly turns him into a hunter. Nick makes the decision to "keep" Ellis despite the transformation.
1. Chapter 1

When Ellis had started to turn, Nick did the only thing a sane man would do. At least, as sane as anyone could be in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. As sane as anyone could be when they were in love.

He found a strong leash and a shock collar.

It definitely had not been easy at first. Especially since El turned so goddamn slow.

Goddamn his strength. Goddamn his spirit.

The kid had nearly crushed his own.

Ellis had stared at him with hard wet eyes as he showed him the collar he would soon be wearing. "Yew should shoot me," he said. It was one of his last few coherent sentences; he said it every day for a week. "Yew should shoot me… but I love yew."

And he had held those hands, those calloused hands that had grown so frighteningly the past few days, the metacarpals and phalanges extending, knuckles swelling. The hick complained of the pain they brought him. Nick had found him medication for arthritis. It had helped take the hurt away, but his hands still grew, fingertips sharpening into points themselves, nothing nail clippers could fix. He held them, laced his own fingers with his and gripped tightly and Ellis rocked back and forth, eyes squeezed tightly shut because it was so hard to resist digging his claws into the flesh of the man's hands.

As it was, Ellis had attacked him a few times before losing himself. Three times, total. The first the hick had pounced on top of him and immediately pounced back off, slamming himself into a wall head first. He kept hitting his head until Nick grabbed him and forcefully shoved the hat back onto his head, seizing his face in his hands and willing him to stop. The mechanic cried all night, no matter how much he tried to soothe him, and he kept apologizing over and over and over.

"Yew should shoot me."

His answer was always the same. "I'm not going to."

The second time was what finally prompted the collar. His restraint had been slower– he only came to when he saw Nick's blood on his hands. He had been horrified with himself.

Thankfully the wound hadn't been deep, but it stung for a long time underneath the gauze. "Tell me a story," Nick had insisted, trying to calm him. Ellis didn't want to, but he eventually gave up his sobbing to relay an adventure with Keith, and the memory brought a smile to his face. Nick had smiled too.

"I ain't got much more time…" the hick had said, stooped against the wall. His posture had too begun to degenerate, leaving him hunched and stooped whenever they paused. He tried to keep upright when they went out, but Nick could tell it had been a painful endeavor– that physically his back was changing– that the vertebrae had re-aligned the S-curve into a single ugly C. "I kin hold on tuhnight…" he mumbled. "I want'chu to make luv tuh me… this'll prolly be the last time while I'm still me…" His voice had trembled so much, so hard. At the time Nick had found it curious that the boy acknowledged he had no plans to stop– once he had changed.

As it turned out, El did hold on. They went all night. It wasn't a stretch to stay up; they both had become insomniacs, unwilling to spend precious moments while El was still El asleep and unconscious.

And after they had made love that final time as the sun came up, Nick had collared him.

And fuck if the boy didn't thank him then, as he slowly slipped the collar around his soft neck, fastening it tightly. "Thank yew, Nick…" he said, trembling fingers touching the cool metal. "Fer luvin' me enough tuh dew this…" Nick had had to blink back tears. "I prolly would'a done the same thing in yer place." Then a few moments later, as Nick cradled him in his arms. "I'm really gonna miss yew…"

"I'm going to miss you too."

"I'm so sorry, El…" he had whispered.

But Ellis had gone to sleep.

And he barely saw him the next day. While El didn't attack, he didn't act like El either. He just sat, hunched and in his corner– the corner he had decided he liked which was next to the couch and by far the darkest in the little inhabitance. Nick hadn't tried to make him fight that impulse, an unnecessary added torture. He didn't peek out until mid-evening, as Nick sat on the couch, knees hugged to his chest. Ellis crept out of his corner and drawled, one final time, "I luv yew."

The words had turned him inside-out because he had just spent the whole day convincing himself of the fact that he wouldn't be seeing Ellis again, that the wait was finally over. "I love you too…" he replied hoarsely. The kid crawled up onto the couch, crawled up to him, crawled into his lap.

And attacked him the third time.

Nick's fingers had been on the remote all day; they curled around it in a heartbeat and sent electricity through the kid's body before he could strike, the force of which made him fall to the floor.

"Ellis…!" Nick yelled. "Are you okay?"

The hick let out a wail as he rose. "Shoot me!" he screamed at the conman. "Shoot me!"

Nick shook his head and Ellis screamed again, digging his claws into his own chest. "Shoot me, shoot me, SHOOT ME!"

And even though the kid had technically been in his 'right' mind, Nick pressed the button again. And Ellis collapsed.

He never saw or heard from him again.


	2. Chapter 2

He never saw or heard from him again, but it made it easier.

In some ways.

Once El disappeared and left him with a raging creature in his form, he had had to use the shock collar so much that he replaced the batteries frequently to make sure they wouldn't give out at an inconvenient time. The first day he had to utilize it once every five minutes or so. The next day rewarded him with a 100% improvement– once every ten minutes. Unfortunately the curve didn't hold– for the next week he kept having to shock the kid those every ten minutes to keep from being pounced. His yelps were angry, distraught. He'd sink into a brooding silence, sometimes growling under his breath, sometimes giving a high-pitched whine of hurt for many minutes afterward.

To sleep he had arranged a room with reinforced metal walls– originally some kind of storage room for refrigerated meat, but it made a good pen. It gave him time away from the kid, though his sleep was fitful for all the banging on the echoing steel walls as he tried to escape.

But whenever he had secured enough rest for himself, he always let El back out. He hadn't decided to keep him just to have him permanently locked up; he wanted to spend time with him… despite the kid's constant interest in murdering him. Getting him back out of the room wasn't always an easy process. Often the hick would be prepared to leap when he opened the door, having heard him coming. On days when they would be going out to look for supplies, he often had to shock him upon entry and keep the shock prolonged until he got the leash on with gloved hands. He hoped it wasn't damaging to his mind to have the shock extended like that, though the thought seemed silly on its own all things considered.

He fed him flesh. There were plenty of zombies to drag back (if they didn't just come straight up to the house), cut into hunks and feed to him. Ellis made it plenty clear daily that he'd rather be chewing on Nick's living flesh, but without anything else to fill his tummy, he ate what he was given. Nick tried to keep the meals infrequent at first, and only as a kind of reward for good behavior. But reward or not, he seemed to have to keep his hand on the button, ready to apply the next shock. Dully he had consigned himself to the existence. El would be this way forever.

But hope shined through the day the kid didn't try to pounce him for a full half hour. He couldn't scarcely believe it. As the twentieth minute had passed, double– DOUBLE– any previous times, Nick had grabbed a large leg and set it in front of him. The hick had gobbled it up greedily, and as Nick bent to clean his face and hands of the mess he had made of them, El's nostrils flared and he knew it was coming.

The shock he had had to give him sent them back into the pattern the rest of the day, but Nick kept the incident firmly planted in his head and heart, refusing to give up on his little lover. Day by day the intervals grew. Half an hour became common. Then an hour. Eventually a few hours at a time. Ellis grew accustomed to his scent and resisting it.

As it was, he treated the boy with as much normalcy as possible. Never once did he allow himself to think of him as a monster. He was El and that was that. And he talked to him. Asked him questions. His favorite question was "Are you hungry, El?" to which he would lift his arms and tug on his hat– he did still love that hat. Nick wasn't sure where the hick put all the food. He always ate like he was starving, and no matter how much he ate there was always room for more. Or at least so it seemed. He wasn't getting any fatter and he didn't defecate all that much.

One night, as he was eating from a can of ravioli, the kid tilted a curious head at him, watching him eat. He gave a little low growl, but it wasn't the kind of growl to be concerned about, Nick had learned, then crept forward to place both hands on his thighs. Nick had tried not to tense at Ellis' proximity… at the feeling of those claws just fabric's length from his flesh… as the kid sniffed at the can. He recognized eating. Eating was something he knew, and Nick watched as Ellis' wide yellow eyes blinked, as if he were attempting to figure out why he was eating this instead of hunks of flesh.

"Want some?" he had asked, carefully holding out a forkful.

Ellis opened a tooth-ringed mouth and Nick placed it in. The kid's nose wrinkled at the taste and he drew back with what seemed to be shock. Nick couldn't help but laugh. It felt like the first time he had laughed in forever.

But Ellis hadn't been appreciative of his laughter, slinking back to his corner with an annoyed growl.

Nick finished his can complacently. The moment had been, honestly, touching. But such moments remained few and far between as weeks stretched into months.

The first thing the kid learned– could he call it remembered…? he wanted to– was his own name. When Nick said "El", the hick would look up, or peek out of his little dark corner, wondering why he had been called. It pleased Nick very much that this small bit of recognition was there.

Things did change slowly. Patience and consistency payed off. For one, the kid stopped attacking unless he was hungry. Nick kept him fed and Ellis kept from trying to kill him. Certainly an acceptable compromise in his book. Naturally he still had his moments. If Nick stayed too close too long, he couldn't resist trying to take a bite. Which made keeping him clean difficult, but he managed in snippets to keep him from getting too filthy. For the most part he had to try and keep his contact with the kid to a minimum, letting him approach on his own time instead. As it turned out, Ellis-turned-hunter was reasonably inquisitive about his living partner, and would often come out to watch him.

Not that he did much. A lot of the time he read whatever he could get his hands on. He had nearly finished filling a bookcase, placing the things he had finished in it. Sometimes when the kid would join him, he'd read out loud to him and Ellis seemed to listen, blinking and watching and waiting for his next meal.

The metal room became less of a necessity. A nice big meal before bed and one in the morning seemed to suffice to keep him from attacking when he opened the door to let him out. Nick was nervous to make the switch, but he wanted to. He could recall the blatant surprise on the hick's zombified face the first time he didn't put him in the room. He had given his usual proclamation: "Bedtime, El." and obediently, the ex-mechanic had scurried over to the door, but Nick didn't open it, motioning instead at the couch. He seemed to understand and crawled onto it, curling into his typical ball to fall asleep.

For a while he alternated nights, keeping El in the fortified room one and staying up all night the next to watch and make sure the kid didn't wake from the couch and try anything. But he never did, so at last he let the kid stay out, going to sleep in the bedroom, and happily, but with a touch of mild surprise, he woke up alive.

A couple weeks later was when Ellis really surprised him. Scared the shit out of him too. He had been asleep when he felt something crawl onto the bed. His hands had flown for little remote– almost lost and forgotten on the bedstand– but as it turned out, El hadn't been interested in attacking.

Instead he just curled up at the foot of the bed.

The kid had just wanted to be close to him.

He had had to resist sweeping him up into his arms and hugging him tight. But before too long, it had become the new pattern and Ellis dutifully slept by his side, sometimes even snuggled up under the covers when the nights were colder.

So each day the kid grew a little more like a dog and a little less like a murderous monster.

But not like El.


	3. Chapter 3

At least, not like El for the first few months...

His mind changed the night the hick uttered his first word since transformation.

He had been in the kitchen at the time, cooking something up on the gas stove. Ellis had been napping in the corner of the living room, but at the smell he traipsed in on cautious paws. By now sometimes the kid actually liked to eat cooked meals, so long as they were chock-full of meat. He was a little nervous about sharing too much 'real' food with him; the corner store he had been sniping from these few months stock was depleting slowly. But he couldn't ever say no to the puppy-dog face El had learned… or was that re-learned? It had always got him what he wanted. But when Ellis came in, Nick hadn't bothered to look back at him or anything, stirring the meal so it wouldn't burn. He heard him and knew he was there; he'd whine if he wanted his attention.

Apparently the hick did want it. But he tried a new tactic.

"Nchhhhhh…" he heard the kid growl.

Nick spun on his heels, his heart skipped a beat as he stared incredulously at him. "What did you say…?" he whispered, setting down the spatula.

Ellis blinked at him slowly, then opened his mouth again to reiterate. "Nchhhhh," he growled simply.

He fell to his knees in front of the kid then, grabbing his hands tightly. His name. He was saying his name. And more miraculously he had remembered it. He had to have remembered it, because he hadn't told him. "Ellis? Ellis are you in there?" he begged, starting to hyperventilate. He touched his face. "My God… El..."

"Nchhhh," the hick smiled, baring his teeth, happy to have pleased him. "Nchhh, Nchhh, Nchhh!"

Nick closed his eyes, drew him close and began to cry.

After that it was tempting to try and teach El how to "act like" El. But he reminded himself daily that he wasn't looking for an approximation of the real El, but that he wanted El to remember who he was.

Who he was had to be deep in there. Not that it was an easy task to bring it out. But it was a goal he was dead-set on because, more than anything, he wanted the hick back.

Six months after Ellis' transformation, Nick plucked up the courage to finally attempt intimacy with his little friend. By then the shock collar had become obsolete, though he had not removed it; most times a bap on the nose or a sharp yell of his name had been enough to keep him in line. That, and he had taught El to tolerate his touch– petting his head or back, a kiss on the forehead, right between those big yellow eyes, gentle hugs.

Ellis regarded him curiously as Nick removed his clothing, because he was on the bed, not in the bathtub, where he was usually undressed. His attention grew even more rapt as Nick stripped himself naked. The kid had watched him take showers before– sometimes even randomly pounced into the tub with him– but he seemed to recognize this was not what was going on because of the location they were occupying in their dwelling.

Nick lubed himself and then leaned the kid onto his back; Ellis hissed at the unprotected positioning of his stomach, the urge to curl up strong. Nick shh'd him and he stopped hissing, petting his front, down those still strong, hard abs. He sucked in a breath– six months was too long.

He crawled between his legs; Ellis twitched and sniffed and wriggled uncertainly beneath him. "Relax, El…" he cooed. "Take it easy… I just want to make love to you…" His voice seemed to ease the kid, so he kept talking a little longer. "Do you remember, El? Remember how we used to do this…?" His own breath hitched, though he hadn't wanted it to. "I love you, El."

"Nchhhh," the ex-mechanic responded, tugging on his hat.

Nick nodded. He licked his lips, then proceeded.

Ellis gave a jerk and a growl, his eyes flaring with luminescence. Nick made a grab for his arms before he could lift them. "El!" he yelled at the hick angrily and Ellis took a couple sharp deep breaths, effectively pinned. His fingered claws curled and uncurled; Nick could feel the tendons tightening in the kid's wrists. Slowly his bared teeth went away and he stilled again, letting Nick push himself a little deeper.

The kid was definitely not happy with this. He squirmed numerous times, growling and grunting and huffing as he kicked his legs, but Nick got a rhythm going and slowly the hick stopped fussing as much and just allowed him to work.

Nick moaned. "Ohhh Ellis…"

Ellis wrinkled his nose and snorted, watching him.

His voice went deeper, louder. There wasn't any reason to hold back. "Ehhhhllis…"

At the conman's throaty emission, Ellis decided to respond. "Nchhhhh…"

Nick's back gave a buckle and he lost it.

Well, a little rusty after all this time. But it was probably good to have kept it short. He released his compatriot, who was quick to flip back over onto his front and haunches, stretching his shoulders around in a circle with a little low growl.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it, El?" he asked with a smile.

Ellis blinked his two round eyes at him. He gave something akin to a sneeze, then shook his head.

"Bedtime sound good to you?"

He visibly perked. Nick knuckled his head. "Alright, Tiger. Gimme a sec, I'm gonna brush my teeth. You can stay here if you like."

But the kid didn't like and followed him into the bathroom, watching from the ground as he scrubbed his molars. He spat into the sink and when he looked up, the hick had risen to his two feet, hands holding him steady against the counter, teeth bared.

Nick laughed. "Really? You want to brush your teeth too?" God they needed it, but that hadn't been a task he had undertaken.

The hick's mouth didn't close, so he assumed that was a yes. He put more toothpaste on the brush and leaned over to go to work. The minty tingle must have come as a bit of a shock, because as soon as it hit his tongue he was spitting all over the place. He stared at him like he was crazy for doing this every night. Nick quickly cleaned up the froth and Ellis' chin and they hit the sack, both quite contented.


	4. Chapter 4

He opened the cupboard above the sink to find that he had run out of both boxed mashed potatoes and powdered milk, even though he thought he still had some. Briefly he rummaged around to see what else he was low on. Cheerios. Canned peaches. He frowned and turned around. El was right behind him, watching.

"Strrrr?" he asked perceptively.

Nick nodded.

Ellis scampered off and brought him his magnum and the plastic basket they had taken from said store. You weren't technically supposed to take them home with you, but that didn't exactly apply during a zombie apocalypse.

"Thanks, El," he said and the kid gave a nod and a smile.

They set out a couple moments later. Ellis happily took the lead, quite familiar with the route. It had been ages since he had used the leash on him– no longer concerned he'd try to get away– and as such, Ellis got plenty of exercise by leaping to the tops of buildings and back down over and over and over. It was pretty impressive to watch, Nick had to admit, he was maybe even a little jealous.

They didn't encounter much on their way over; they rarely did anymore. Seemed the zombies had figured out to avoid the area, either that or months of clearing them out had finally succeeded. Nick wasn't particularly looking forward to moving. Eventually they'd have to, though it was still a good ways off. But he'd grown comfortable with the area, as had El.

The little bell on the door rang as they came in. They rounded up everything they needed in a matter of minutes, then took the time to browse the aisles. "Anything else you want?" Nick asked his compatriot, who was poised at his thigh.

The kid took a graceful pounce over the shelf to his left, and reappeared with a few cans of Alpo. Ellis had recently graduated from raw flesh to dog food of various varieties. As a result, he had also been eating in smaller proportions. Just the other night he actually hadn't finished his second can, and offered the remainder to him– usually it was just the opposite. Nick had humored him and tried the stuff– it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, but he'd stick to foods that didn't make their own gravy. The hick dropped his additions into the basket.

"Oh, vitamins," Nick mumbled now, wandering over to the section that carried them. Ellis wrinkled his nose. He didn't like taking the little pills, Nick knew, but he insisted daily. There was no way he was getting proper human nutrition out of an all-meat diet. Nick's own preference was the hard tablets, but El took the chewable fruity-gummy ones.

Shopping trip completed, they exited the store and began down the street.

Ellis stiffened.

Nick caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. "What is it, El?" he asked, confused.

The kid gave a sniff and then a tiny whimper followed by a low, long growl. He grabbed Nick by the pantleg and tugged, indicating toward home as he swiftly started in that direction. Nick hurried to keep up with him, magnum at the ready as his eyes darted back and forth.

Then he heard it too.

An ugly, rumbling growl. Under his feet the earth gave a single terrifying tremor.

He dropped the basket. How long had it been since he fought a tank? His brain whirred. Ten months? A year? More than that? It felt like ages. It had been ages. Was he even in shape enough to do this? He cursed himself angrily. He'd gotten lazy and complacent. Reading when he should have been doing some goddamn pushups.

Another rumble as they skirted the sidewalk.

His adrenaline glands sent him a surge without warning and it almost made him gasp with the rush it sent through his blood stream.

Ellis kept motioning him along frantically, but he was already running double-time, he just couldn't keep up with the kid was all.

His brain kept turning. They didn't even have anything to set the fucking thing on fire. That was how they had always taken them out back when. Set it aflame, run like hell, and shoot until you ran out of ammo if you had to. Formulaic. Systematic. His fingers clenched; the fifty caliber weapon in his hands suddenly seeming puny and useless.

Ellis gave a whine and stopped dead in his tracks, yellow eyes lit with fear.

That was when the tank exploded through a building across the street, sending debris flying. It was just like he remembered them. Just as big, just as hulking, just as covered in raw muscle.

Nick's arm snapped up quicker than it had any goddamn right to. He delivered eight shots into the raging creature's legs, aiming for the knees in hopes it might slow the damn thing down.

It didn't seem to care much, transitioning its weight mostly onto its arms. Nick grit his teeth. The head then. He reloaded as he bolted after El, who had gotten far in front of him in the span of a few hurried seconds. He turned to fill its face with lead, firing as fast as he could. The tank roared and responded by chucking a dumpster at him, which came way too close for comfort. He forced another clip into his weapon.

The house loomed up ahead. Not that it would do them any good to get there. It offered no protection strong enough against a tank, not even the metal room. He watched as Ellis seized the door handle in his claws, turning and shoving it inward. If he hadn't been busy, he would've been impressed the kid had managed to work the mechanism. El disappeared inside and Nick unloaded a third time, the sinking feeling that this was getting him nowhere as the tank gained on him, its fists leaving sizable dents in the pavement as it pounded toward him.

The tank seized a manhole cover and flung it at him. He dropped to his knees faster than gravity could take him and felt it fly over his head with perhaps a foot of clearance, embedding itself horrifyingly in the wall behind him. He scrambled to his feet, heart hammering in his chest.

Ellis leapt from the front door, turning a sharp ninety degree angle on his palms, feet skidding. His legs burst into action, bounding towards him as fast as they would go. Nick saw something squarish and grey clenched in his jaws– was that a bottle of Drano…?

Drano burned. A strong base. God, the kid was fucking brilliant.

He turned back to face the tank, unloading again, but now it was all but ten feet from him. He let out a surprised cry, fumbling for the next clip submerged in his pocket.

Ellis launched himself over his head. All at once he saw arms, chest, torso, and legs fly over him, aimed right for the monstrosity. At first it appeared as though the kid had missed his mark, skimming over its shoulder, but his left claw latched itself into right side of the behemoth's neck. The momentum of his pounce swung him around onto its back, and drug his claws through the dead flesh, ripping the length of its collarbone wide open.

That alone would've killed a lesser creature.

Thick dark blood gushed and Ellis tore his right hand into the plastic container of Drano; the liquid poured down the creature's now-gaping throat. The tank's roar turned into a gurgle as the chemical immediately took its toll. It seized Ellis around the middle and flung him hard from its back. The hick's body hurtled through the air and struck the building behind him, rebounding with a wail, his back giving a sickening crunch upon contact with corner that was the roof and eaves. Though he landed on his feet, he quickly crumpled on the sidewalk in a heap.

"Ellis!" Nick's voice cracked in alarm.

The tank screamed and raged and pounded at its own chest, heaving back and forth on its legs, but it didn't last long. A moment later it hit the earth, leaving silence save for the sound of still sizzling flesh.

Nick hurried over to his fallen compatriot, almost afraid to touch him. "El… El please tell me you're alright…" his fingers trembled as he dropped the magnum to the concrete.

The hick gave a groan and blinked his eyes open. Slowly he pulled himself onto his haunches and Nick felt his eyebrows lift. "Easy does it, El," he said soothingly. "Does it hurt?"

Ellis gave another grumble and twisted his spine to the right. It gave a few cracks and Nick shuddered as the hick twisted to the left and it gave a few more. "Fynnnnn," he growled, then his eyes lifted, undoubtedly to see that the bill wasn't obstructing the top of his vision.

Nick snagged the hat from beside him and handed it to him. "You are amazing," he said. "You know that?"

Ellis forced it down onto his head with a huff. "Wlllllkrrm," he said succinctly.

Well, that was pretty saucy for hunter-El. Nick laughed, more relieved than ever. "Yes, thank you," he replied apologetically, well aware that was what the hick was looking for.

The kid perked and stuffed his face into his suit jacket, nuzzling against his chest ferociously. Nick pet him back.

"Let's get our stuff," he said, standing. He eyed the mountain of a body as they passed. "What am I going to do with that?" he wondered aloud and Ellis gave a disgusted snort at it. Usually he disposed of extra bodies so they wouldn't stink and draw anything else, but if he wanted to move the one-ton carcass he was going to have to chop it into smaller pieces.

He blanched at the thought, then noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ellis was nursing a limp, attempting to hide it as best he could. Nick swiveled on his heel and the kid knew he was caught, quickly looking away.

"You are hurt," Nick said, somewhat angrily. He pointed an arm briskly. "Get back to the house."

Ellis whined, eyes growing bigger; Nick narrowed his down. "Now."

The hick shook his head, on the verge of what appeared to be tears.

"I'm fine now," Nick said, sweeping his hands down in gesture at himself as if to assure him. "I'll be back in just a minute. You lie down and keep your weight off it and I'll be back to take a look in a jiffy." He kneeled again, touching the ex-mechanic's face gingerly, thumb brushing just under his eye at the slight wetness there. "You did good, El," he murmured, "I'm fine, okay?" He gave him an encouraging smile.

Ellis nodded and turned to do as he was told.

A definite change from the El of just a few months ago– he had gone from wanting to tear out and eat his insides to willing to risk life and limb for him. Gone from subtle indifference to… what had that been, emotion?

He remembered the first time he had seen Ellis cry. Late one night in a saferoom, after a day where nothing went right, when all of them were battered and bruised and torn up. The hick had sought his comfort, told him all about his family, his childhood.

He recalled that at the time he had been thankful he hadn't had those things to lose.

And then when they and Coach and Rochelle had split ways after the failed evac. That had been the second time he had seen him cry. He supposed now, in retrospect, that they had become like a surrogate family to the kid after all they had gone through together.

He was all the kid had left. Or had had left. Was the current El aware of those old hurts and pains and pines?

He picked up the basket solemnly.

Maybe it was better for El this way.


	5. Chapter 5

Convincing Ellis to stay off his leg was a bit of a challenge. The kid hated sitting still, and Nick couldn't really blame him, being cooped up wasn't fun, even for someone who hadn't become a pouncing maniac. But he took a special kind of pleasure doting on him, bringing him meals in bed and such and the kid eventually took to it, albeit grumpily. Nick was just thankful the injury hadn't been any more severe than a sprain; as it was, El was recovering quite quickly and he'd be letting the kid return to his usual pouncing and running around the house in another week or two.

Evening came. He dressed down for bed and crawled in beside the hick now, who was on his back, arms folded up onto his chest, clawed fingers laced ever so slightly together, staring at the ceiling with those big wide eyes. Briefly Nick wondered what he was thinking about… if he was even thinking about anything. He looked contemplative. Nick considered asking him what was up, but their ability to communicate was still rather lacking… He'd always been able to read the kid, but now, staring into those vacant yellow eyes… revealed little to him.

He missed him… so much.

Nick shook his head and tried not to think about it. He leaned over and grabbed his most recent acquisition off the bedstand, opening it to the bookmark to settle in and read silently. He didn't have to feel guilty about it; earlier he had fulfilled his obligation of an hour of exercise. That lesson he had learned.

Ellis shifted and fidgeted. The hick rolled over onto his side and took to staring at his compatriot, licking his lips and teeth; Nick pretended not to notice. A clawed hand reached over and stroked his chest, which sent a tingle down his spine. "Luhkkkkk," Ellis growled at him.

Nick's brow drew down, looking over the book. "What?" he asked, not recognizing the word and having no context to go off of.

"Luhkkkk," he repeated. The hick shook his head with irritation, knowing his pronunciation was off. He straightened up and tugged at his shirt with his clawed fingertips, pulling it up slightly to expose himself. "Luhkv Ehhhhhl. Nchhh luhkv Ehhhl!"

It clicked. "You want me to… love you?" he asked, setting the book down.

There was a fast, eager nod.

He smirked in spite of himself. "So you did like that? You sneaky little thing."

Ellis flopped back onto his back. "Luhkvvvvvvvv!" he held the v sound, apparently pleased to have finally managed it, and to have gotten across his intentions. "Luhkvvvvvvvvv Ehhhl!"

Was that what he had been thinking about? Propositioning him? Or had it been something else?

Either way, his heart rate accelerated and next thing he knew, he was tugging off the kid's clothes and taking him exuberantly. The hick settled into a purr– a deep, long, held purr, and Nick had to admit that while it was a new sound to their love-making, it was enjoyable to listen to.

It was also nicer that he didn't have to hold his arms down this time.

And that a few minutes in the hick started using those incredibly strong hunter-fied legs to rut back against him.

Oh God.

Against his own better judgement, he flipped them over, putting Ellis on top. The kid didn't even so much as hesitate, completely untroubled by this new position, setting an even faster, harder pace, ignorant of any pain it might have brought his wounded leg.

Nick gave a gasp. "E-easy, fireball…" He hadn't imagined that he'd be ever be saying that again, but here it was. Sure, sometimes before the old El had ridden him rough… but now he was practically spring-loaded. Ellis blinked at him with big round eyes full of disappointment.

"Hey hey, you're going to hurt me…" he chuckled.

Ellis snorted. "Ehhhl nchhht hrrrkt Nchhh," he attempted to explain himself. "Ehhhl lukvvv Nchhh." A pretty fair argument, all things considered. But the hick wasn't done. He tapped at the collar that was still around his neck and Nick felt his eyebrows lift. "Nchhh hrrrkt Ehhhl."

His breath left him then, a sudden ache filling his chest. "I'm sorry, I had to…" he whispered, nearly choking up. "If there had been any other way… I would've."

Ellis shrugged his shoulders amazingly non-committally for a zombie. He gave another sneeze-like gesture and tugged at the collar again. "Nchhh nchhht hrrrkt Ehhhl."

An 'anymore' was implied. "...You want it off?" he asked carefully.

There was enthusiastic nodding. "Offfffkkkkt," he repeated, testing the word. "Hrrrkt offfkt."

Talk about a trust exercise.

Months of zapping and shocking and fearing for his life told him not to do it. He briefly eyed those six inch claws again.

The same claws that had undeniably saved his ass just a couple weeks ago.

He moved to get up; Ellis allowed it, dismounting. He fished around in the dresser drawer a moment before finding the key towards the back. He then hunched over the kid's patient form; Ellis craned his neck up so he could get at it easily. He pushed the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked off. The collar fell into his hands and he held it up. "There we go, El." He regarded him with supplication. "I can't hurt you anymore."

Ellis shoved him back against the bed, eyes glowing.

He was back on top and straddling him in an instant, panting and huffing and groaning. "Nchhh… Nchhhhhh…!" he hissed. Nick felt all his extremities go numb, felt all and any insecurities melt away. The collar fell away from his grasp, falling to the threadbare carpeting with a silent thud.

It was just him and Ellis.

Ellis.

He moved himself upward, propped himself against the wall and reached for the hick's now bare neck. El allowed him to touch it, and he danced his fingertips over the tendons, over the jugular, over the adam's apple, down to the divot between his collarbone.

The hick murmured and moved closer, tipping his chin up higher in welcome.

He had always liked neck play. Nick used to tease him horribly for all hickies ended up giving the hick. Though El's response had always been to give him one right back. An eye for an eye…

Nick's mouth closed over his lover's throat now, kissing the dappled grey flesh fervently. Ellis' eyes closed and his lips parted as he bit at the air.

Nick took the cue and sunk his teeth in.

The hick mewled loudly, claws tensing around his shoulders. He bit and sucked and worked the flesh in his mouth until he knew it had been sufficient, then drew back to admire it.

It was sort of purple-y on the grey.

Ellis' tongue flicked up to lick his top lip. He leaned down and hovered over his own neck, breathing deeply through parted lips, past sharpened teeth.

Nick shivered, partially in fear, partially in arousal from said fear.

…A tooth for a tooth.

The hick closed his mouth over his sternocleidomastoid. Nick gave a frightful gasp as he felt all the sharp little pinpoints press into him… but just gently enough to not break the skin, though it was very very close. Ellis' jaw worked hard against his throat, eagerly, hungrily, and Nick felt his whole body slacken and his mind sink into a haze that told him the hick was actually cutting off circulation to his head with how roughly he was attacking his neck.

His hips hurried faster; El responded in turn as they worked frenziedly against one another, the bedsprings creaking in dismay. He couldn't even feel his legs anymore, but El was doing most of the work at this point anyway.

The dizziness in his head only started to clear once he got off, and that was when he realized the hick had too, all over his stomach. And goddamn there was a lot of it. Jesus Christ.

Ellis curled up around him with a pleased purr. Nick ignored the sticky mess and wrapped his arms about the kid's shoulders, his whole body tingling with that 'pins and needles' sensation in aftershock.

"G'nighhh, Nchhh," the ex-mechanic commented, his head cradled in the crook of his shoulder.

"Goodnight, El," he murmured back, kissing his forehead.

The hick was sound asleep in minutes, leaving Nick alone in the dark, stroking his hands through the curls of his dirty blonde hair. With his eyes and mouth closed like this… with the low lighting that masked his permanently darkened skin… with his hands and feet tucked neatly out of sight…

He looked like El.

He imagined the hick waking up now. Waking up with bright brown eyes flashing at him through multiple eyeblinks, full of life and love and excitement at the sight of his lover. He could hear him, hear his words.

"What'chu doin' up, Nick?" A grin full of straight white teeth. "I thought yew'd be sleepin' in after the night we just had!" A chuckle and a punch on the arm, followed by an embrace of 'no-hard-feelings'. Then the hick would catch the look in his eyes and he'd straightaway set to trying to cheer him up. "Hey, hey, ain't no reason tuh be lookin' so down, I luv yew!" Another smile, a touch on the cheek from unclawed hands and an exuberant nod as his mouth took off at a hundred miles an hour. "Hell, we's got's tuh be jus' about the goddamn luckiest fellers there is, havin' each other like we dew."

Nick broke down.

Come back, El. Please please come back.


	6. Chapter 6

Life felt dead and empty.

And he felt tired… and old.

Nick stood in the bedroom, staring out the partially boarded up window at the street, watching the shadows of the buildings as they stretched and elongated in the growing dusk.

He took a deep breath and fiddled with the shock collar in his fingers, clicking the metal of his rings against the metal of the band. He couldn't explain why, but it gave him a kind of solace. A reminder of what he had accomplished.

What they had accomplished.

His eyes dropped.

Every night he felt like he couldn't take another day of it. That he'd wake up and not have the strength to get through. This existence had worn him thin. Each day melded into one another like an unending smear of bitter struggling for something unattainable.

Ellis…

As of today, he had known the kid longer this way than he had known him before. The knowledge made the dull ache in his chest turn into a vice grip.

Not that he'd ever been a particularly happy individual at any point in his life. He had spent the majority of his years climbing social ladders, perfecting his various games that gave him an edge. Successful? Hell yeah. Happy? Not particularly.

And then El went and dumped him on his ass, turning his whole world upside-down in one fell swoop.

When he had met him, the hick didn't have anything– nothing more than the grimy clothes on his back and that hat on his head. No fancy job, no fancy car, no fancy education. Though, the whole zombie apocalypse thing had kind of leveled the playing field in that respect. Still, it was unmistakenable how goddamn happy the kid was regardless of the fact he had nothing to his name. And he shared. Oh, how he shared. Made him smile and laugh and forget. No one else had ever been able to do that.

The kid had given him a taste. A taste of what it was like to feel that way too. Careless. Free.

So naturally, he had been ripped away from him.

He turned the shock collar over in his hands, studying the reflection on its smooth surface.

He tried to remember how he had felt at the beginning of all this. Nine solid and long months ago. Tried to remember what exactly he expected at the time. Had he ever held out that he'd get El back? Or had he just been unwilling to plant a bullet between his head? Did he think he'd forever keep a raging beast in his midst… or had he thought that somehow, if he just worked hard enough, if he just kept trying, if he didn't give up, that he'd be able to get him back?

He couldn't remember and he wouldn't trust his memory if he did.

Regardless, it really only mattered how he felt now.

He'd allowed himself to hope. That had been the mistake. For all the progress El had made, he now stagnated in this in-between state that was neither zombie nor Ellis. They'd gotten so far.

Yet fallen so short.

He sighed and took a weary glance back at the bed, considering how he would soon be condemning himself to it. How he'd toss and turn and ultimately, he'd huddle up underneath the covers and question what the hell he was doing, who the hell he even thought he was doing what he was doing.

Sleep always took forever to come; on bad nights it never did.

Yet when dawn came, he'd wake up next to El, curled up and snoring blissfully, his toes sometimes twitching in his dreams.

And he couldn't let him down.

He had tried taking depressants from the pharmacy section of the little store for a while. But he quit a few weeks later when he realized the only thing he was getting out of it were the side effects. The concern implanted on the hick's face was evident every time he'd been hunched over the toilet, heaving his guts. Fucking useless meds. They were prescription-only and almost out of date, so he probably should have known better.

The sleeping pills had been an even worse idea. Mostly because they worked.

He recalled the morning he had been awoken by violent shaking from El, who was screaming and crying at him desperately. Recalled the sharp gasp he took as his heart restarted, pounding in his chest hard and fast to recover from his formerly comatose state. And he realized then how close he must have been to ODing.

Worked a little too well.

Ellis hadn't let him out of his sight for even a second for three full days. It was adorable, but not really worth the scare, for either of them.

Nick set the collar back down on the bedstand.

He tried to hide his depression from the kid. Tried to stay positive when they interacted. Some times he was better at it than others.

Tonight he was real shitty at it.

The whole reason he was in here now was because he couldn't face him across the dinner table. Ellis had been happily nomming away at his Iams, spoon clumsily in hand, gesturing with it while growling something indistinguishable. Shit, if he knew any better he would have guessed it was a Keith story the way he went on and on with it. Nick had been forced to get up and leave before he got too worked up, and now he had spent the last few minutes trying to just calm down enough to go back out and finish his own by-now-cold meal.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down to see Ellis staring up at him with concern. He hadn't even heard him follow him in. A kind of shame filled him, getting the distinct feeling the kid had probably been watching him from the doorway.

"Ehhhl luhvv Nchhh," the hick stated.

The conman wearily began to remove his jacket.

In all honesty, the sex was probably making it worse. It was physically pleasurable– fuck, he didn't want to admit it, but it was some of the best sex he ever had.

But psychologically it was shredding every remaining ounce of his sanity.

Ellis shook his head forcefully then, raising up on his haunches to prevent him from undressing any further. With great and concentrated effort, the hick straightened his back to come to his full height. Nick blinked into his face with confusion, down at the rounded nose just a few inches below his own. El regarded him seriously; a clawed hand settled over his chest, right over his heart and Ellis practically purred. "I luhvv yewww, Nchhh," he said, meaningfully.

Nick felt his breath hitch. "I love you too…" he whispered, the words automatic, though he was surprised by the clarification of the kid's intent. Ellis had never used words like 'I' and 'you' before. He lifted a hand to stroke his face, searching the yellow eyes with desperation.

Searching. Searching for what?

The hick nodded knowingly. He tilted his head and blinked. Which was when Nick realized that while he might not be able to read what was going on behind those yellow eyes… El could tell what were in his.

"Yewww misssss Ehhhl?" he asked.

Nick choked. He trembled and closed his eyes. "Yes…"

Ellis pressed closer, wrapping his muscular arms around him to hug him, to hold him; Nick buried his forehead in the neck of his lover and forced back a sob. Ellis supported his weight easily. "Ehhhl kurrrm bchhhk," the hick said comfortingly. "Prrrm'ssss."

Nick pulled away to stare at him, speechless.

The hick's eyes dropped now, studying the floor almost sheepishly. "Ehhhl nvrrrr leahhvvv," he explained, shrugging his shoulders. "Ehhhl jussst… lssst smmm'tchms."

Nick blinked at this information, his heart beginning to race. The kid was speaking more coherently… using more words than he had ever heard from his mouth before.

He was talking to El.

"Are you lost now?" he asked with haste, but he knew the answer. "You're not, are you?"

Ellis slowly shook his head. He grit his teeth and forced the words out. "I… ain't… losssst." His brow drew down, nose wrinkling. "Nawwwt lossst," he repeated, almost as if he was convincing himself. He breathed a couple moments, until he had composed, then smiled at him sadly. "Plsss be paitchhhent, Nchhh." His voice gave an odd kind of hiccup as he delivered the message. "I'll be backkk ree'lll soon."

He wanted to ask him how he knew. Wanted to understand what he meant by 'he'd be back'. His head swam. "El…" he started, but the hick anticipated him.

"Yewww jusss g'ttta hvvvv faithhhhk."

His speech was losing lucidity. He was losing him.

Nick clasped the clawed hands and squeezed, nodding. Urgency drove his words. "I'll be here, El. Waiting." He swallowed painfully. "No matter how long it takes."

Ellis smiled, the kind that tugged the corners of his plump lips just enough to expose a little teeth on the side of his face. The old smile. "Th'nnksss, Nchhh."

He wanted to say something more. El opened his mouth helplessly, adam's apple bobbing, but couldn't get it out. Nick watched him fight. Watched the battle that raged inside his head. His back gave a horrible shudder and he collapsed forward; Nick caught him in his arms before he could fall.

"Ehhhl lssst…" he whimpered sorrowfully.

Nick held the boy delicately. "No, El." He let tears flow freely, rocking the hick back and forth with thankfulness. "No, you're not. Not really." He pressed his cheek to his forehead. "I'm so sorry I ever doubted you."

Ellis was coming back.


	7. Chapter 7

That day had strengthened his resolve.

In fact, it turned his whole outlook around. When El had said to 'have faith', he didn't know if the kid meant in God, in himself, or in him. Hell, maybe it was all three. Either way, like a lot of things, he started with himself.

From that night forward, he did everything he could to instruct El, to help him learn all the forgotten pieces that were still missing. He wasn't going to stand around and wait anymore, wasn't going wallow in self-misery, he was going to be proactive with everything the kid had "lost" and help him regain it, take it back, make it his again.

In essence, he became a teacher.

He held out his arms with a big smile, motioning his fingertips eagerly. "C'mon, El, come to Nick."

The hick was standing on the other side of the room, slightly hunched, teetering ever so slightly, tongue propped in the right corner of his mouth. Cautiously, he lifted a foot, balancing on the other leg. He stuck it out, then set it down and shifted his weight onto it.

"That's it," Nick said encouragingly.

They had been practicing this exercise a lot; however, today had a twist. All the other times Nick had been close to the hick, either holding his hands or just being nearby to steady him, though primarily the former. Across the room they had gone, back and forth, over and over, sometimes faster, sometimes slower; Nick helped him make his way each time– it almost resembled a ballroom dance the way their feet worked in unison, the way he glided backward and Ellis followed, always in step.

One-Two-Three… One-Two-Three…

He had actually forgotten there was a time in his youth when he enjoyed dancing.

Now though El would have to traverse the entire front room, all by himself. The kid, however, seemed undaunted by the task. Ellis grinned now as he lifted the opposite foot and placed it down too. His form gave a waver, but he kept it together and took another few. "Lkkkk Nchhh!" he announced as he passed the halfway mark that was the couch. "'Mm d'nnn itkkk!"

"I see that," he nodded with a chuckle. Both his eyebrows raised, wriggling his fingers more. "Just a liiiiiittle further…!"

Ellis sped up to hurry across to him, almost tripped once on a dragging pant leg, and with three feet left to close, over-exuberance overtook him and he pounced into his arms.

Nick caught him and spun him around in a victorious circle. The kid laughed as he was swept off his feet. "Nchhh! Yewwwwrk m'kkk'nn me dizzzky!"

The conman stopped the swirling and pressed his lips to him.

The hick immediately crooned. When he pulled back just a moment later Ellis gave a toothy grin. "Ehhhl d'nnn gewd," he concluded.

"Yes, he did," Nick said, removing his hat to ruffle his hair. "And you're going to keep doing good. Now that you've managed, you're going to walk, just like me, everywhere." He eyed him carefully, then gave a poke to his nose. "No more crawling around."

Ellis reached for the hat, which immediately instigated a game of keep-away. Nick held it up just out of his reach tauntingly.

The kid blew a raspberry at him and launched upward on his hind legs. Nick laughed as it was easily snatched from his fingers; he'd never win that game again. Ellis landed and stuffed it back on his head with an air of confidence. "Ehhhl w'lkkk," he nodded in full-fledged agreement.

And so he did. At first he was unsteady and awkward, and sometimes he fell, but he always picked himself back up and continued resolutely, dusting off his knees if he needed to. Nick was unabashedly proud of him. Each day he grew better at it and before long he had regained that bow-legged gait he used to walk with all the time.

As a result, they started taking more frequent walks outside. Often they held hands– now that they could, what with Ellis being upright– and both reveled in the simple joy such an act brought. They had merely been walking one afternoon when Ellis pushed his palm into his hand, so quiet and unassuming, and at the touch his fingers curled around the claws and held fast the whole way home. Before all this Nick would have never been the type to do 'hand holding'– it seemed ridiculous, especially at thirty-seven– but with nobody to look, nobody to judge, no one but him and Ellis, he didn't think twice about it and his old prejudice against acting… sweet... began to wither.

A favorite destination for their walks had become a park about ten blocks away. It was open, and though the grass had gone wild, sprouting upward a goodly two feet, the playground wasn't in any form of disrepair. Ellis always insisted Nick push him on the swings, and he never refused, though one time he surprised the kid by asking to be pushed himself. He could still see that look of confusion on the hick's face and how hard it made him laugh.

Before he knew it, another three months had elapsed, just like that and they were staring at the upcoming summer.

So he decided to celebrate the kid's "turning day", a full year since his zombification. It was a little morbid maybe, but he had never known when his real birthday was, and it seemed as good a thing to celebrate as anything. He went down to the grocery and found the freshest package of Hostess Cupcakes he could find– though somewhat sickeningly, they all still seemed fresh after all this time– along with a little candle. He unwrapped one, put it on a plate, stuffed the candle in the center, lit it and presented it to Ellis with a big smile.

"Happy turning day, El."

Ellis lifted his hands and carefully, carefully wrapped his clawed hands around the edges of the plate, sticking his tongue out as he took it from him and balanced it in his paws. That had been something else they had been practicing. Motor control. Regaining the usage of his hands. Nick had at first made him hold and manipulate large objects, gradually working down to smaller and more delicate ones, like the glass plate. The toothbrush had been a challenging one too, but he had mastered that and brushed his own teeth now, no longer even slightly upset by the minty-freshness. And he was more than capable with a fork or spoon to shovel down his meal with lightning rapidity. Nick had even gone out of his way to find a carton of eggs (they were rotten, unlike the cupcakes) for him to practice with– Ellis had broken all but one, but when he finally held that one unbroken orb in his clawed fingertips, his glee was evident.

He grinned up at Nick now, a wide smile full of teeth, brimming with appreciation and accomplishment. "W'lll ainnn'tk th'sss a'srrr'pr'sss!" he growl-said. "Th'nkkss, Nchhh."

"You're welcome," he responded wholeheartedly. Another thing they had been working on. Vocabulary, enunciation, and pronunciation. Nick had been teaching El to speak from the mouth, not the chest. He emphasized the usage of his tongue and the shaping of his lips to create the sounds, along with the subtle constriction of his larynx and voice box, as opposed to utilizing his diaphragm for the projection of his speech. It all sounded pretty complicated, but Ellis caught on reasonably well. The kid was honestly still piss-poor at vowels and soft consonants, but he was getting better. By now he had developed a sort of "growl-drawl", so whether he wanted to call it a grawl or a drowl, he hadn't established yet. Nick smiled. "You know what to do with it?" he asked now.

The kid's head tipped, staring at the flame, as if stopping to think. A grin came over his features. "Hehhhl y'hhh!" Nick watched with subtle wonder as the hick closed his big yellow eyes and a moment later, blew out the candle.

"Did you wish for something?" he asked.

Ellis nodded and set the plate down on the kitchen table. "Ehhhl'sss g'nnn be Ehhhl 'ghnnn. Fhrrr Nchhh."

It was a good thing the whole 'tell your wish and it won't come true' thing only applied to birthdays. But he imagined the hick– the old hick– probably would've spilled the beans too if the situation had ever come up. He smiled as Ellis picked up the little snack cake and snarfed it down, licking creme filling from his nose.

"Yewww g'ttt 'nnymrrr?" he asked, rather unsubtly.

Nick chuckled. "It's a box of eight," he said, tossing the remainder to him.

Ellis caught it and started to tear into the packaging and he just watched with contentment.


	8. Chapter 8

Ellis' sustained interest in 'becoming' El again had given Nick considerable pause.

And an idea.

So he had gone out alone and managed to find a toolbox and a broken-down pickup truck. There were lots of choose from, all equally as much crap as the next, but he decided on a smaller make Ford that was a good couple decades old that looked like it needed a lot of engine work.

At least he thought it did. He didn't actually know jack-shit about that kind of thing.

Pushing it back had been fun, maneuvering the wheel from the open driver's door while heaving himself against the frame. He had to stop once to remove his suitcoat and throw it in the bed, because even he ended up getting overly warm; but he had eventually managed to get it home, parking the 'prize' in front of the little residence they called their own. He took a few minutes to catch his breath, then stepped onto the porch and called into the house through the front door to get his little friend to come out, who he had instructed and finally convinced to stay through all protestations to the contrary.

El had looked significantly confused at his beckon, as well as his missing jacket, but at the sight of the truck, his eyes grew even wider and rounded and lit with an even greater glow.

"Yewww…" he started incredulously, "yewww g'ttt me a pckkk'p?"

Nick nodded, then presented the chipped red toolbox. "It's a late present." He shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "I would've gotten you a Ferrari, but the only one I found was in perfect condition."

The hick laughed at the joke. He reached for the outstretched toolbox, which was quite heavy, taking it with ease, biceps flexing. His claws dug through the various tools with glee. He began to identify them, growling their names, though Nick didn't recognize at least half of them because he hadn't fixed a damn thing in his life.

"There's a NAPA down the way," he added, pointing north; it was about a mile. "Any parts you need should be there."

The hick set down the toolbox on the hood of the pickup, traipsing his hands over the metallic surface. Nick watched as he circled the vehicle, not once, but twice, eyes darting over it. Finally the boy looked back to him and with little warning, pounced into his arms; Nick just barely caught him in time. "Th'nkkk yewww, Nchhh," he crooned, nuzzling his face into his neck. "Yerrrr thhuhk bsssst!"

"I know, I know," he smiled and cuddled him back.

Before long, Ellis had re-become quite the grease monkey. He spent hours underneath the hood, or underneath the car proper, and Nick was glad to have reunited him a hobby that so consumed him. Meanwhile, he took to doing his recreational reading outside on the porch in the summer warmth, feet propped comfortably up on a stool, a drink by his side, for the sole purpose of being able to glance up from whatever book he had to watch El work. And Ellis reciprocated those little looks and glances coquettishly, which sometimes resulted in a romp in the bed of the truck.

Or in the cab.

Or on the hood.

Even underneath the car once when El had had it jacked up.

So maybe he should say they shared a hobby, so to speak.

One thing he didn't much like much about it though was how irritatingly difficult the grime and oil stains were to hand-wash out of the kid's clothes, though thankfully he didn't ask to have them cleaned all that often; Nick sorely missed the dry cleaners, hell, even a laundromat would've been welcome. But over two years after the infection hit the power grid was still down and there was no electricity. Honestly, they were goddamn lucky they had running water… and a furnace… and a gas stove. Nick wondered how many other stragglers were living on the residue of society like him and El.

And of course he wondered if it would be like this forever, because by now he would've expected some hint of something if there was ever going to be anything.

With El almost back to normal, physical aspects aside, these sorts of thoughts had been floating around his head, thoughts about the future, about where a life like this was going to take them, waiting and scrounging and waiting... always more waiting.

They sorely needed to move by now, though he had been putting it off. He managed to find a new grocery, though it was twice the distance. He eyed his book collection, which had overflown to a fourth standing bookcase. Maybe if El could get the pickup running (and he could find some gas– ha!), they'd be able to transport it, as well as some of the furniture they had accumulated, but otherwise he'd be forced to leave it all behind.

From across the table, Ellis finished his dinner, scraping the last little bit with his fork, depositing it to his mouth before pushing the plate aside. "Th'ttt w'sss one gewwwd meal," he said agreeably, patting his tummy.

"It was just canned ham," Nick replied. El was always complimenting his cooking; he figured the hick was just being polite because it wasn't exactly like he could put much effort into searing goddamn Spam.

...Even if he had spiced it to taste with a little paprika and oregano. And garnished it with some sliced canned olives. And served it with a side of strained canned green beans in cream sauce made from powdered milk and Campbell's mushroom soup and some flour to thicken it up nicely.

Okay, so a few of the books on his shelf were cookbooks. He couldn't help it.

"I dunnn'kare," Ellis insisted, "yewww m'kkk itk gewwd."

"Alright," Nick conceded with a chuckle, drumming his fingers on the tabletop absently. Ellis leaned onto his elbows. They spent a few moments in silence, not an awkward silence, nor an uncomfortable one, just the kind of silence that developed between two people who knew each other well enough they almost didn't need to converse to know what the other was thinking. Nick gazed into the yellow eyes of his young lover, transfixed by the glow that emanated from their ovular centers. Ellis blinked with warmth, and thankfulness.

He was actually starting to become able to read them nowadays.

"I'll dewww thuhk d'ssshs tuhn'ghkt," the hick volunteered.

"I'd appreciate that," he smiled. El had taken up helping out with a number of the chores around the house, and Nick was grateful, considering how long he had had to do them all himself.

Ellis nodded, then kneaded his left hand with a frown. Nick had noticed the kid had been rubbing his knuckles a lot lately, for the past few days. "Is anything wrong, El?" he asked across the table.

The hick looked a little embarrassed to have been noticed. "Th'y j'ssss b'nnnn h'rrrrt'nn s'alllll," he said.

"Maybe from working on the car?" Nick offered.

Ellis shook his head. "Mm b'ckkk'ss b'nnnn h'rrrrt'nn tkoo."

Nick scratched his cheek. "I can get you something, if you'd like. Advil. Or your old arthritis medication."

The hick gave a shrug. "E'thrrr orrr'd pr'lly w'rrrk."

"I'll be right back then," the conman said quickly as he pushed himself away from the table. He headed for the bathroom medicine cabinet and rummaged through it. He shook a couple of pills into his palm, wondering at Ellis' complaint… at how similar it was to the pain the hick had experienced pre-transformation.

It was far too much to hope the mechanic could somehow revert.

Wasn't it?

He hurried back, and handed the kid a tall glass of water and the two pills. Ellis pinched them deftly between finger-claw and thumb-claw– even his minute dexterity was back, likely aided by working with the small parts of the car. Shit, at this point, the kid could probably beat him at a game of Operation. Ellis upended the glass. "Th'nkkss."

"No problem. I just hope they still work."

"W'lll see in'a b'ttt," he said, standing to take the plates to the sink.

Nick tarried a moment more, watching Ellis' turned back with mild concern.

Beside him, the frigerator gave a hum. Ellis' head snapped to it and Nick eyed the decrepit device with brows drawn down. Of course he had never bothered to unplug it from its socket, nor remove it from the kitchen, but he hadn't ever fostered any expectations of being able to use it either. It rattled as it began to move coolant. Fingers trembling with an odd sort of anticipation, Nick reached for the handle and opened the appliance.

The little light came on.

Ellis came over to stare with him at the tiny bulb. A very mild coolness eked from the interior, spilling towards the floor; Ellis wriggled his toes.

"W'lll I'll be d'mmn'd," the hick said and Nick nodded in silent, stunned agreement. He paused, scratching his head under the hat. "Wha'dssitt meannnn?"" he asked, blinking at him.

"...I don't know."

They both stood, reverently watching and listening. Less than ten minutes later it shut back off, so obviously it had just been a test.

But it had an implication. The sleeping world was waking at last.


	9. Chapter 9

The tests continued. They began to occur daily. Nick wasn't quite sure what the frequency of them was for. Sometimes they were long, sometimes they were short. Most occurred during the day rather than after dark. In particular one test always ran at eleven in the morning, almost without fail. And it always ran for eight minutes and forty-two seconds.

They had timed it. Made it part of a little ritual during brunch. They'd set up their plug-in radio at the table and surf the channels and frequencies while they ate. All they ever got was static, but for some reason they kept trying anyway; Ellis' hand never left the dial until the device was cut off and then he just put it away to use again tomorrow when the power came back on.

But besides this subtle indication of life, they were never presented with any evidence that people other than them existed.

Until one mid-summer afternoon.

He had been washing dishes from their last meal, one that he had had trouble even getting the mechanic to come in for. As he had been told through rapid gulping mouthfuls, El had actually managed to find a small tank of gas earlier that morning and he was rather excited about the fact that with it he could start the car and give it a little test drive. Nick had advised him to keep his jaunt to a minimum and the hick reassured him he wouldn't go far, maybe just a few blocks was all. And then he proceeded to dissolve into some technical mumbo-jumbo about the carburetor and some other part the conman had no clue what did, let alone that it existed, but apparently it was important by the way El went on about it. So Nick had shooed him out the door with a grin that said 'go back to playing with your toy' and El had.

Ultimately, he hadn't been expecting the kid to return indoors nearly so quickly.

"Nchhh! Nchhh!" the mechanic burst through the front door, calls laced with concern as he swept through the house.

Nick turned from the sink, frowning as the hick appeared in the doorway. "What is it, El?"

Ellis wrung his hat in his hands, which he held close to his chest as he looked up at him imploringly. "Th'rr'ss a girrrl," he explained hastily. "Outsss'd. She'sss… she'sss h'rrrt realll b'ddd, Nchhh."

He quickly shut off the water. "Is she not infected?" he asked, falling in step with the hick as they hurried outdoors.

Ellis shook his head forcefully, his messy brown hair following the motion; he slapped the hat back down on top of it.

Nick saw her now. El had propped her up against the back wheel of the truck and she was sitting in a large pool of blood, which trailed in a line from the direction she had come down the street.

"She just walked up?" he asked with confusion.

Ellis nodded. "I wasss jusss' worrrkinnn' an' th'nnn I saw herrr an' she coll'psss'd," he motioned at another spot that was soaked in crimson. He swallowed and looked back to the girl hesitantly. "I dunnn th'nnkk she'sss g'nnna makk'it…"

From all the blood loss, Nick was very much inclined to believe him. What's more, the rather sparse first aid kit they kept wouldn't be anywhere near enough to treat the kinds of wounds she had sustained, even if they had gotten to her immediately. All across her body were deep lacerations that poured the red substance, clearly the result of tearing claws and biting teeth. She was for the better part delirious, at least, in a state of agonized shock, as her breath came in sharp pulls that only served to pump more blood from the wounds as she gasped for precious oxygen the missing liquid couldn't supply to her convulsing body.

Nick kneeled close to her.

As Ellis had said, she wasn't infected.

But she had been.

Her hands were partially gnarled still, swollen and angry at the joints. And her skin, while pallid from loss of blood, was smeared with ever-so faint patches of the grey of infection. Her eyes however, were completely normal, a pleading effervescent blue.

She squeezed them shut at his proximity.

Nick drew away from her hunched form, lips tight. "All I can do is end it for her," he mumbled.

Ellis removed his hat, and held it tight to his chest again. "Plllss dewww," he said.

Nick hurried inside to get his magnum, all the while his thoughts churning. The girl had been infected. She had reverted. As a result she had been attacked, by other infected… who had not yet reverted... with nothing to defend herself from them. She had probably been one of the first to contract the infection, thus, was also one of the first to turn back. And she had barely managed to escape, clinging to life.

And he was about to plant a bullet in her head. Just like every other infected, the thousands and thousands of them, from the beginning of the infection when they fought down to New Orleans to the stragglers who so rarely wandered onto their humble street nowadays. Every one of which, in time, would too have reverted, who might have had a chance to go back to their old lives.

Self-preservation was a bitch.

When he returned outside, he found El hunkered down, holding the girl's hand…

And she was smiling.

Nick froze, staring.

"…Soon…" she whispered in a horrible gargle, her fingers trailing over the hick's roughened enlarged knuckles with a pained delicacy. Ellis reached out towards her with his other hand and touched her cheek.

"Mm's'rry… yewww c'ldnn'tt gittt away," he mumbled, pushing away a tear from her eye. "Wh'cherrr name?" he asked.

"Mary…" she coughed.

"M'nn'sss Ellisss."

"…And him?" her blue eyes lifted to the man in the white suit.

Ellis hadn't noticed he had returned. He gave a small twitch of surprise at the sight of him, but a grin pulled quickly over his features. "Oh, tha'sss Nchhh. Myyy b'sst frrr'nd in thuhk whole-wide worrrld."

She smiled again at his own smile– the hick could make anyone smile, God bless his soul– though hers was such a sad one. Nick swallowed hard as he continued to watch from afar. "Tell him thank you for me…?" she asked breathlessly.

El nodded, though Nick had heard just fine. But he understood her desire to convey the message this way. It was because they shared a bond– of having been infected, of pulling through to the other side… of having found sanity among the madness. The mechanic pulled away from the girl, returned his hat to his heart, and gave him a stiff nod.

Nick lifted the gun.

God was he tired of shooting people. So god-awful, goddamn tired.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

And Mary slumped, devoid of life, the deed done.

Both men stood wordlessly a long time, turned from her corpse as if to grant her privacy, and to acknowledge, not her death, but her life that neither knew. They contemplated the horizon sullenly, each lost in their own thoughts. Nick wondered what went on in El's head; his own a bittersweet.

"Ittt goesss away," Ellis whispered to him.

About the same as him.


	10. Chapter 10

The day they had met Mary had been two weeks ago.

The reading glasses propped on the tip of his nose trembled. He looked up from his book, now hearing the distinct sound of a diesel engine. He listened as it grew louder and louder, rumbling, until brakes screeched. He set down the book and his glasses. Whatever it was had to be directly in their street with how noisy it was.

Nick lifted himself from his seat on the couch and proceeded to the window warily. He drew aside the sheet that served as a blind and peered out. A large truck now sat, idling, just outside their domicile. Nick frowned. It was the kind of truck usually used for freighting steer, as hitched to it was a large metallic compartment, pock-marked with hundreds of small, evenly-spaced ventilation holes. He could see motion inside the cargo area, but he couldn't really tell what was inside.

Until he saw the flash of a single yellow eye.

Nick bit his lip sharply. His eyes darted to the cab as he heard the driver's side door slam shut on the side opposite. A man, dressed in some kind of armor that covered most of his body, walked out from around the front of the truck, studying a clipboard in his hands. He was also armed with an AK, which was strapped to his back. Nick promptly slid the blinds back shut before the man had a chance to look up and catch him in the window.

Still and all, he had a feeling they were about to get a visit.

Because no doubt El's pickup, as well as the organized exterior of the building in comparison to its neighboring structures, was likely a tip-off that there was someone home.

He rushed for the bedroom to get his magnum. From the bed, Ellis blinked himself awake at the sound of the bedstand drawer closing beside his head.

"S'goinnn' awnnn?" he asked him blearily, head rising from the pillow.

"We've got company," Nick mumbled, pulling the safety off the gun and jamming it into his pocket.

"Wh'ttt k'nnnd uv comp'nnny?" he sat up, even more confused, yellow eyes focused on the now concealed weapon.

Nick worried his lip between his teeth. "I don't know, but I think you should hide."

The hick's brow drew down. "Hide? Wh'ttt forrr?"

There was a loud knock on the door, pounding and insistent. Ellis froze at the sound, nostrils twitching, spine arching; he forced his hat onto his head and the pounding continued.

Nick kind of got the feeling that if he didn't go answer the door promptly that they wouldn't have one much longer.

El gave a territorial hiss. "I ain'kt hidinnn'," he asserted firmly.

Nick swallowed tightly. "Stay close to me then."

The hick jumped out of bed and pressed close to his side obediently. They crept into the front room; their was a loud thump against the wood, followed by a shout of "Open up!"

Nick reached for the knob with his right. With his left, he eased Ellis fully behind his back, out of sight before opening the door.

The armored man, who had been poised to take another wallop at the door, stared at him with a little incredulity. He straightened up and his eyes took a quick survey of the conman's body, up and down– likely weirded out by his choice of a suit. "Good morning, sir," he barked, the formality forced. "I am one of many on assignment to clear out this section of Baton Rouge. Are you the sole inhabitant of this residence?"

Nick shifted on his feet; he felt Ellis hug up tighter against his back, pressing into the concave curvature of his spine. "No, one other," he spoke softly.

The man's gaze was back down on the clipboard, from the looks of it, some kind of map of the area; he marked something with his pen. "Then I would ask you to get him or her and I will escort you both to an appropriate facility."

Nick tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "We aren't interested in being transported out."

"I'm sorry," the soldier said, without a hint of any actual apology, "but while the city is being cleansed, all survivors and/or immune must be secured in a facility."

Nick liked how the guy spoke with slashes in his speech. Apparently the mantra was rather well rehearsed.

Not to mention he was somewhat amused by the irony. The three months they had spent trying to find an open evac, only to be deserted or denied repeatedly… and now, two years later, when they had long since given up receiving aid, had settled and established themselves, now they were going to be forced to move into some… camp?

Yeah, that wasn't happening. No thanks.

So he'd just have to convince him to go away.

Nick leaned against the doorframe casually, lackadaisically; Ellis followed his motion perfectly, staying concealed. He folded his arms and addressed the man. "Listen, the both of us have been living here for almost two years," he said cooly, voice like silk. "We're not harming anything. Just continue about your business and forget about it." He gave an aloof shrug.

The man regarded him emotionlessly. "My business is to escort civilians such as yourself to a facility. I cannot proceed until the both of you are en route."

Nick's patience began to wear thin, but he wasn't out of cards. "We both know what your primary business is," he spoke, giving a quick incline of his head at the truck. The man frowned, but quirked an eyebrow. "Escorting me and my friend is just going to cause you delays. I can tell you that I've been 'clearing out' infected from this area myself for months, so you're not likely to find much of anyone else to…" he hesitated, "collect."

The soldier gave a heaving sigh and looked down at his clipboard, finally relenting. Nick smiled inwardly, smugly. Goddamn, two long years away from anyone but El and he could still wrap people around his fingers.

"Just allow me to conduct a quick investigation of your home and I will be on my way."

Nick seized up from top to bottom involuntarily. "I don't think that's really necessary," he grimaced.

The man's eyes narrowed down. "Nor is your non-compliance."

Nick stepped away from the door with a jerking motion, tugging Ellis back with him, allowing the soldier entrance. "Fine, whatever. Just be quick about it," he growled. El clung hard to him, claws digging into his sides with a degree of fear.

The hick had noticed the truck full of infected.

Nick gave him a soothing purr as he let the man begin to step his way through their home. He reached back a hand and squeezed one of El's, mentally conveying everything was going to be alright, that soon he would be gone and they would be left alone once more.

After a few minutes of prodding around, though certainly not thoroughly– he had never once strayed far enough to be out of eyesight– the soldier returned to where Nick stood stiffly at the door. "This 'friend' of yours…" he asked, adjusting the strap of his AK, "what is her current location?"

"He," Nick corrected curtly, "is out."

"Procedure would dictate that I must acquire his consent to reject transportation to a facility as you have done; I will be remaining here until I can verify this."

That didn't sound like procedure, that sounded like something he had made up on the spot as an excuse to prolong his already unwelcome presence. "Absolutely not," Nick snapped, his hackles raising as the situation circled slowly down the drain. Ellis gave an uncomfortable shuffle, but he felt the hick's muscles tense as fear turned into anger.

The man stared at him harder. "Unless you can supply some kind of viable proof that your companion does in fact exist, I may have to escort you against your will, sir."

Oh that was a hoot. No wonder he had wanted to take a quick look around. He thought he had gone crazy from loneliness or some shit.

Heh, well, he was about to convince him of that.

He tipped his head. "El," he instructed.

The hick stepped out from around him, unafraid and standing tall, yellow eyes blazing with indignance.

The soldier took a step back, a scowl forming on his features as he unleashed a baton from his belt. "You are in possession of an infected individual," he said, brandishing it.

"Tell me something I don't know," Nick mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"I am required to seize him immediately."

Nick stroked the magnum in his pocket with a cat-like calm, biding his time before he would be inevitably forced to pull it out. "He's not yours to take," he murmured.

The man straightened up to his full height, adding another couple inches to his already-prior advantage. "I am under authority to remove all infected persons from the area for containment until they normalize," he barked. Apparently he was back to the mantra.

Nick didn't move a muscle, other than the supple lift of his left eyebrow.

Ellis spoke up. "I ain'kt goin' w'thh yewww," he said resolutely.

The soldier's face twisted with further shock.

Nick motioned at El with a flourish of his hand. "As you can see, he's already 'normalized'," he said, giving the man one final chance to back down. "So you'll be leaving us now, with his 'consent acquired' as per your request."

The man found words. "His outward physical traits are decidedly infected. I cannot harbor any exceptions. He will be coming with me."

Nick had tolerated this intrusion long enough.

He pulled the magnum and trained it on the soldier's head. "Out," he said forcefully, eyes narrowing down. Ellis' lifted his chin a little higher, proudly.

The man took a side step this time, shimmying towards the door. "Your possession of a firearm is against the law," he said, as if saying such a thing would even possibly get him to lower it.

Nick answered him by raising his left hand to pull back the top, cocking it into double-action. His lips pulled into a tight grin. "Like I give a shit." The man flinched, unnerved by his expression. His fingers twisted around his club, but at gunpoint he was helpless and unable to draw his larger munition. "I'm not going to ask again," Nick rolled his tongue in his mouth dangerously. "Leave." He inclined his shoulder. "Or my pal here is going to get a nice meal of your brains on my floor."

Ellis played along and bared his teeth for effect.

It effectively sent the man skittering for the exit. He quickly found the door, slamming it shut as he rushed for the safety of his vehicle.

El hurried to the window, yellow eyes locked on the retreating soldier. "He'ss usin' h'sss radkio…" he whispered.

"Ah shit," Nick cursed. Though he had to say he was less than surprised the man was pulling in backup after such a confrontation. He should've just shot the guy when he first came to the door.

Though then, of course, that probably would've sent more authorities looking for the missing man and truck. So really, they had been fucked from the beginning anyway.

"What're we g'nnna dewww?" the hick asked.

Nick chuckled sardonically, shaking his head. "We're going to have to make a break for it."

He was too old for this. He really was.

He hastily snagged a couple more magnum clips and shoved them into his pockets, hoping to God he wouldn't need them. His fingers sought out the shock collar on the bedstand, which he slipped more gently into his inner breast pocket, securing it just over his heart. He peered up at Ellis, who hadn't moved, but instead stood just peering about their home, eyes scanning the interior with a slow sadness. "You got everything you need, El?" he asked.

Ellis looked to him. "G'ttt my hat an' yewww," the hick smiled sweetly.

Nick smiled back. He delivered a kiss to his forehead. "Alright, tiger. Your your truck can handle this, can't she?"

The mechanic's smile transitioned into a grin. "H'ckkk yeah, she c'nnn. She'sss rarinnn' tuhk go!"

"Then let's do this," he nodded. They made for the front door. Nick pressed his face to the peephole; Ellis waited patiently. When the soldier wasn't looking, Nick yanked it open. They dashed to the truck and piled in, keeping their heads low. Ellis quickly ducked down and gave the wires under the steering wheel a sharp twist.

The truck rattled eagerly to life.

The soldier looked up, his mouth opening in protest, hands groping for his weapon. But Ellis was already gunning it, foot depressing the accelerator to the floor. The tires screeched and slipped, but within seconds they were tearing down the road, barreling away from two years of a former life, and they were not pursued.

Nick didn't look back.


	11. Chapter 11

After they had escaped, they found a more remote place to settle back down. They had followed one of the old roads, a little two-lane highway, northwards; it was Nick's hope that by distancing themselves from major cities, they could resume a life undisturbed. The road led them to a little hole in the wall by the name of Slaughter. They would have gone further, if they had the gas– the two gallons couldn't get them very far afield– but after a quick scoping out they found a stocked grocery and that was good enough reason to settle in right then and there. The original population of the town had been somewhere near a thousand, but upon their arrival it was clear that the new count was two– it was very much him and El.

So they picked out a house; or rather, El picked out a house, because upon seeing the quaint, double-story domicile, he fell completely in love with it.

The outside had a modern-ish look, mostly stucco with wood paneled accents along the gutters and windows. A number of angles and curves graced it, and the roof was made up of numerous adobe-esque shingles. All in all, it was very fashionable, and looked like it had been customly constructed on site– the land likely purchased by a retired couple and built to specifications, which were rather humble, as the house was by no means huge. It had a couple of bedrooms, a couple of bathrooms, a well sized living space and a well equipped kitchen– though it was about twice as big as their old place. The inside sported a mix of hardwood flooring– a whitewashed oak– and off-white carpeting (Ellis exclaimed that it matched his suit), and the walls were painted a pale olive downstairs and a pale mustard upstairs. The house still had what appeared to be all the original furniture; at least, Nick couldn't discern that anything was missing. It seemed that the little house had been spared any damage of the infection, as had the majority of the town… that people had simply evacuated their homes and that was that. Violence had not touched the place.

As such, it made it even nicer to settle down there and restart.

The house also had a large front lawn– gone to weed, but Nick would fix that– that housed three very successful elms, about half matured considering their forty foot height (Ellis promptly asked if they could hang a tire swing), and it had a little picket fence which the yellow paint was peeling off of– which El volunteered to right. The backyard, while not as large, had a small wooden gazebo and a hammock strung between a couple of birches. One of the things Nick personally liked best about the place was the large portico and the upstairs balcony that connected to what became their bedroom. Ellis liked it too; he could hang his large feet off the ledge and swing them while they lazed and enjoyed the sunshine, or while they watched the stars in the sky at night.

Removed from the city, they never got electricity tests, and their water was based on a well and septic tank system. They got along easily enough, old routines quickly re-established. Nick resumed his book collection, and Ellis began collecting fixer-uppers on the curb.

Out of pure curiosity, he and the hick investigated the nearest gas station. As it turned out, there was still some gasoline– apparently it hadn't been run out in the exodus of the small populace. Of course, without power, the pumps couldn't run, but they pried open the little cover that led to the underground tank and managed to get their own siphon going with a length of hose, filling El's pickup to capacity, along with a few portable tanks as extra, which they stored in the bed of the truck. They didn't really have any intention of going anywhere, but it set Nick's mind at ease to know that if they absolutely needed to, they could put another three hundred or so miles between them and whoever might come looking for them again.

Because they needed to stay out of sight– at least until El's appearance changed, because the hick very much still had six inch claws, rows of jagged teeth, and two bright luminescent yellow eyes.

Not that it troubled him too much to look upon anymore. There was nothing frightening about a jubilant, grinning, fun-loving El who spent so much time just wanting to cuddle with him or making spontaneous love, breaking in every nook and cranny of their new abode.

For some reason, their relationship never dulled. Nick didn't know if it was because of what they had gone through, during the infection, or if it was what they had gone through with the kid's own contraction of the strain, the brutal process of bringing him back to humanity, or if it was something else altogether that inevitably paired them in a complimentary harmony. And he refrained from caring, taking it at face-value, because for all the shit he had endured– pre, during, post– he deserved to be happy, and so did El.

Still he had to wonder when Ellis would make the physical change, and he wasn't alone. El spent anywhere from a couple of quick seconds to a few long minutes in the morning studying himself in the full length oval mirror of the master bedroom, looking, searching for even the smallest, most minute of changes. The pain in his hands and back didn't let up, but there wasn't much indication of why, because time stretched into months since they had met Mary.

And sure, they both knew Ellis had been rather late to contract the infection, but it didn't stop either of them from being impatient.

Both rather expected the transformation would be gradual. Perhaps it was a false assumption. How could they really know? It seemed it had been that way for Mary, whose mind had returned to her somewhere in an inbetween physical state– but there was nothing to say her experience was the only possibility. It likely varied from person to person. And while Ellis had made a slow physical transition into zombie and a rather abrupt, nearly overnight, transformation mentally, it didn't mean the reciprocal would be true coming out of it.

After all, he had his mind back and he had had it for many many months.

Which made Nick wonder if the military, or whoever it was who had been on order to round up infected individuals, had any idea that with the right amount of precautions, control, and love, even the most vicious of the lot could be trained, educated… fixed, as he had done for El. He hoped to God they hadn't just thrown them in a big holding area all together to wait for them to transform– hoped to God that, even if they didn't make any attempt to help them, that they at least gave them each their own cells, because otherwise they were likely to rip one another to fucking shreds.

Like Mary had been.

A year passed, all at once slowly and quickly.

It was then that Ellis broke down in helpless frustration. "I ain'kt gonna evvver be norr'mal agin!" he yelled, overturning their kitchen table one evening. "Evvver! Evvver!" he screamed and gave it a kick. Nick drew back quietly to allow him room to fume. "M'gonnna be stuckk like thissss– LIKE THIS–" he shoved his hands out at him, his claws upturned and tensing, "a f'ckking monster! Forrrevver!" He screamed again and flung his hat at the wall. "God damnnn ikt!"

And Nick hadn't really even known until that moment that it upset the hick all that much. El had never alluded to it prior to now. He supposed he should be more upset about it too, but he wasn't. Carefully he bent to pick up the hat, waiting as El curled into a heaving ball on the floor, head tucked between his legs as he shook uncontrollably. He supposed it was probably harder on the kid than it was for him, after all, it was his body.

"I couldn't give two shits about the way you look, El," he said, squatting down next to him.

Ellis took back the extended cap. "Yewww really oughkt to worrkk on yerrr lyinnn', Nchhh. Yewww'r ruskty as hell."

He nibbled the inside of his lip. "Alright," he conceded, choosing to rephrase what he had said, lifting an alluring eyebrow, "I don't mind the way you look now."

Ellis' breath hitched as the conman planted a wet kiss to his mouth. They shared the moment for a long time, jaws clenching and unhinging against one another with a slow rolling excitement.

Nick drew back. "But if it bothers you that much, I'll try to find something out about it."

Ellis eyed him, eyed his lips, licking his own. "Like how?" he asked, drawing forward again eagerly.

Nick rewarded him with several small quick kisses, dragging the tip of his nose down his face as he went. "I'll take a trip down to Baton Rouge," he whispered against his flesh.

The hick shook his head; the conman settled into the crevice his neck. "I really don'kt like thuhk idea of yewww goinnn' backkk there."

"I'll be fine," he assured him, bestowing another kiss to his lips. "For all we know, not much has even changed down there. But I'm sure I can con some information out of somebody if I have to."

Ellis sighed, pausing to give it some thought. He eventually gave the tiniest of nods.

The mechanic looked back up to him. "Yewww really thinkkk I lookkk okkkay?" he asked with concern.

Nick swept him into his arms, into his lap, forcing his backside against a stubborn jabbing erection. "C'mon, El," he murmured, "what do you think?"

The hick purred and pawed at his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders.

The trip was enlightening in a number of aspects, but not in any helpful ways when it came to El's condition.

He drove the truck down to Baton Rouge, parking it in a backlot and walking the remaining distance into what had been designated by a number of bright yellow signs as a "trial community". What he found was that a portion of the city had been roped off to contain a test group of civilians, who had volunteered to restart society outside of the facilities where they had hitherto been living. There was a lot of activity in the streets, reparations being done, and there was electricity, solid and functional.

He was immediately noticed by the people there because the community was small enough that every knew everyone else, and they did not know him. He slipped cooly into lies as he was asked where he was from: Another trial community, up in Memphis, he replied. Memphis! So far away! They let you go? Yeah, the restrictions weren't as strict in Memphis, you could take some work leave. That must be so nice! Did they give you that suit too? Where's your wife? The questions continued, hurried and excited, and to get them to stop he had to say he was tired from the journey. The blathering heightened. Where are our manners? Please feel free to stay in our home. Can we get you something to drink?

He was shepherded off for refreshments and lunch with little choice in the matter, still surrounded by exuberant chatter with him as the focus. He ate their crummy meal and tried to ignore it.

The people were disturbingly akin to domesticated farm animals. Stupid, mindless beasts of burden.

They took him on a tour after that; showed him all their on-going projects and restorations, all the fruits of their labor. They all worked together, all shared and shared alike. Apparently shipments of food boxed in large crates were shipped in bi-weekly and was split among the families. Every man had a wife– there were no other couples, nor were there singles. Disturbingly, Nick noted that every female he came across held in tow with her an infant, most around two months old, some even younger, which gave him a pretty good idea when the community had been established– not long after his and El's flight. It also got across the fact that while previously interned, reproduction had been disallowed, but now, out in the test group, it was encouraged… perhaps even required. Though Nick wagered it probably worked as an excellent motivation to get female volunteers, what with motherly instincts kicking in. Besides the infants there were no children. That also disturbed him.

When he eventually felt as though he had settled in well enough with the people and when their own curiosity towards him finally, at long last, abated, he inquired about the infected.

And everyone dropped into a hush.

Why would you want to know about infected individuals? A first quiet meek voice spoke. You're not looking for someone are you? Another more prodding one. The crowd rose as one collective voice then, gaining steam and confidence. Contact is strictly forbidden. Infected individuals are dangerous. You shouldn't go poking your nose into government business. The infected have been cleared.

Ultimately it was clear there were no answers for him. Not from these brainwashed cows. He took his leave and quickly, uninterested in wasting any more time among them, though rather melancholy he would be returning empty-handed. But he wanted nothing more than to be back with El, who, it seemed, was the last sensible person on the planet.

Ellis didn't take the lack of information he brought back too badly. The kid was just pleased for his return– literally sprinting out the door and through the yard into his arms, showering him with affection.

So they did it in the grass.

And they lay on their backs, side by side, Nick explaining to the hick everything he had seen and heard while they contemplated the sky.

"Worrrld'ss gone crrrazy," Ellis mumbled.

Nick nodded carefully.

They clasped hands. El squeezed tight. "Glad I got'chu," he said.

Nick smiled. "Me too."

"Ikt makesss me feel better," he said suddenly.

"What?" Nick asked curiously.

The hick rolled over, onto the conman's chest. He drew a clawed finger down between his pectorals, giving a shrug. "That we ain'kt misssinn' nothin'."

Nick stared into the yellow eyes, realizing now that part of the kid's upset had been that his appearance was keeping them removed from society. However, the news of his exploration had alleviated those concerns.

Ellis pet him now, protectively, possessively. "They wouldnn'kt let usss be together," he growled, solemnly. "They'd make usss take wives."

Nick chuckled down at him. "We could still fuck each other," he joked with a smirk. The kid's conclusion was sickeningly dead-on, and it made his stomach do flip-flops just to think about it… a forced life, no choice in partnership, companionship. A single goal: rebuild.

Ellis gave a snort of amusement. "I ain'kt evvver fuckkinn' anyone but'chu, Nchhh," Ellis gave the side of his neck a nip, already hungering for more of his attention. "They couldn'kt make me."

Nick tugged him upward, onto his lips.

They proceeded to make love twice more, loud and brazen, just to show the world what for.

They'd live like this forever if they had to.


	12. Chapter 12

Ellis awoke from what felt like a long nap– one of those ones where you had gotten up real early in the morning and worked hard, then laid down in the afternoon and accidentally slept a lot longer than you meant to, until well after dinner, and then because you were so well-rested and it was late it threw your whole body out of whack and you couldn't sleep for shit later no matter how bad you wanted to.

Yeah, it definitely felt like one of those as he came to.

Except it wasn't evening, it was morning and sunlight was streaming into the room… from the second story.

The hick pushed himself onto his elbows and glanced around blearily, taking in the rest of his surroundings.

He didn't recognize them. At all.

Ellis fidgeted uncomfortably. His shifting in bed received a snore from the man beside him.

Nick.

Well now holy shit, how could he forget about Nick?

Ellis immediately raised a hand to rouse the sleeping man, then froze, noticing something else he hadn't expected to see. He frowned as he now studied the sleeping face.

He looked… older. The lines in his face, on his forehead, under his eyes, had all deepened, though gracefully. And the cheeks had sallowed ever so slightly, dipping at the cheekbones where they used to be more full. Hell, even his adam's apple looked like it projected a bit further from his neck and Ellis spotted a couple of short grey hairs sprouting from the top of his scalp.

...Why did he look older?

He stared and stared and stared.

Ellis wracked his brains and wrenched his eyes away to peer down at his hands. They looked just like they always did, calloused and roughened, skin thick on his palms, the cuticles battered, a little dirt under the nails that needed a bit of a trim.

Why did that seem odd?

He leaned over and snatched his hat off the bedstand, fitting it to his head. He gave another frown and pulled it off, fitting it a second time, then a third and a fourth, testing the motion. That felt bizarre too. Shit, why would that feel weird? He did that every goddamn day. He drew his legs up towards his chest, rubbing his arms with concern, eyeing the man beside him once more. Maybe… maybe Nick could tell him what was going on, or rather, what had happened. If Nick knew. He glanced back over to the bedstand.

His eyes fell upon the shock collar.

And it all rushed back.

Months and months… no, years and years… of a different, far-away life. So murky and dim in his mind that it felt like it must have only been a bad dream.

Ellis gave a choke; his fingers finding his own neck, wringing at it. Was he himself again? Was he… not infected? He leapt from the bed and ran for the bathroom, nearly tripping on his awkwardly small feet. He pressed himself to the counter, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

He was. No yellow eyes stared back at him; brown ones did. He stared into those eyes, those eyes that seemed so familiar, yet not, because the last time he had looked into them was back when he was losing himself, and it had been the most frightening moment of his whole life. The brown pools began to tear.

"…El?" Nick's voice sounded from the bedroom, having been woken in his dash. Ellis didn't respond, unable to draw himself away from his doppelganger. The conman appeared behind him in the mirror, green eyes meet brown in stunned disbelief. Ellis swiveled around to face him in the doorway.

Nick stared at him.

"El…"

The hick trembled in his presence. Trembled and waited for acceptance.

He didn't know why he had any reason to fear Nick might reject him. He had wanted this just as much as he did, to be 'normal' again.

But maybe it was those long years… those years that had changed them both.

The better part of their relationship he had been infected.

Did that make being infected... 'normal'?

Uncertainty crushed him as green searched his form.

The eyebrows tugged downward and a smile spread across the worn face; he opened his arms wide and Ellis pressed himself into them with a hiccup of thankfulness, stemming back tears. They rocked together for a long time before Nick pulled him away to study his face some more, with both eyes and fingertips. Ellis waited in suspense for his words. Finger and thumb rose up to tip his chin up.

"About goddamn time," the man grinned.

Ellis laughed for expecting anything other than his old crass demeanor. He shook his head with chagrin. "M'sorry tuh keep yew waitin' so long, Nick."

The green eyes flashed, the strong arms pulled him crushingly close.

He kissed him, long and deep, eyes open.

Seconds elapsed, followed by minutes and Ellis forgot everything but those lips. It felt like he was standing under a waterfall, a massive torrential waterfall that was Nick, like a thousand days of accumulated hope and desire flowing over him and into him. He opened himself to it, let it overtake him, basked in the downpour of passionate gratitude until he nearly drowned.

The hick drew back, his body quivering as his voice took on a note of sincerity. "You know I kin never repay you… for all you've done for me…" he whispered, head sunk low.

Nick traced a hand over his cheek and Ellis lifted his eyes at its touch. "You already did, El," he murmured, "the day you let me into your life."

He cried then, because he simply couldn't hold it back, the words so raw and heartfelt it left him helpless to any other emotion than thankfulness– thankfulness that he could be loved by someone so much, that in spite of everything he had preserved, that he had brought him back; he sobbed against the larger man's frame as hands soothed and caressed his back.

That day actually changed very little between them.

Life just resumed. That was all.

Society did eventually change and reform to an approximation of the original. Once the colonies were well under way and satisfactorily established, government restrictions lifted and laxed, and people began to take up residences elsewhere, spreading the population. Their first neighbors were a couple who settled a few blocks down the street with a few children. Their food arrived by truck, shipped to them, twice a week in small packages as had been done in the bigger settlements. For a long time they remained un-introduced, until the mother brought over a cliche freshly-baked apple pie. That had really tickled Ellis, a graciousness he hadn't seen from humanity in a very long time. When the couple found out that he and Nick were still raiding from a grocery store after all those years, they offered to help get on the list to get deliveries and they were both happy to accept. Some of the food that got sent to them was even fresh– fruit, vegetables, starches and grains. Nick enthusiastically tried out new recipes earmarked in his re-growing collection of cookbooks.

And others joined them slowly and the town grew and swell. Neither of them minded the company, but they never went out of their way to interact with their 'fellow citizens' either, neglecting gatherings and the frequent baby showers and various house warmings they were sometimes hospitably invited to. So long being apart from humanity left them socially awkward and uncouth; Ellis knew Nick had never been the type to socialize pre-infection, other than to make a couple bucks, so the trend just continued; and he never really saw himself as going back to the way he had been either– lots of friends, some more close than others, late night antics, a party or two, maybe some bar-hopping. Maturity had mellowed him. Instead he stayed home and tinkered with his cars, content to be alone with the machines and Nick.

No one asked them about their story. If anything they became something of legend, simply because they had always been there in the little town from the very start and no one could imagine it any other way, without them living in the house at the end of the street. More than once Ellis caught children in the tire swing in the front yard, but he never chased them off, instead just watching from the bumper of whatever fixer-upper currently sat in the drive. On the outside it probably seemed obvious– two men living together in a rapidly re-populating world– but that was a gross oversimplification, and Ellis wondered from time to time what it would have been like if just that had been the case, if he had never been infected. They had been living on the outskirts anyhow, rejected, but would things have gone differently… between him and Nick?

It was one of life's little mysteries, he supposed. Though he wasn't unhappy. He had lost a little time with Nick, those thick ugly months of mindless churning and uncontrollable rage, but he remembered a good number of things very distinctly– particularly, everything after his first turning day was clear in his mind, lucid and accessible to his memory. Others were more difficult to recall… he caught snatches of walks through a park, of evenings on the couch being read to while he lay in Nick's warm lap, of love they made… now almost embarrassing in its heightened fervor and stark animalistic need… of trips to the grocery store and meals from a can, but nothing concrete and solid. But some memories he recalled so very faintly… it frightened him to this day– memories of pouncing, of eating flesh from bone, of hissing and screaming, of zapping… of curling up against a hard floor and willing himself to sleep against the pain.

He still couldn't believe what Nick had gone through. Even after all this time. He didn't think he could have done the same for him, and it tore him up no matter how many times Nick reminded him that it hadn't been the case, that it didn't matter because it was just a 'what-if' scenario that never existed and never would.

Maybe he would've been able to deal with it. He didn't know.

But it had changed Nick. Remembering him from before and returning rather suddenly almost three years later threw it into stark contrast. They used to squabble and bicker and get on one another's nerves all the time. Which wasn't to say they weren't in love back then, they were, like mad were they in love. But it was a love of passion, wild and hungry between them, never satiable in its capacity to overwhelm them. The old Nick had been stripped away by those years of care-taking, leaving a patient, reserved man, whose interests were only to please his lover, rather than himself.

It had been a little shocking to come back to, to say the least, but what it sparked was a renewal between them, and Ellis could truly say he had never loved Nick more.

Weirdly, they kept celebrating his "turning day", but his "unturning day" didn't really roll off the tongue and they didn't bother with it.

Besides, it wasn't really all that important. In his five years of being 'normal' again, of possessing untainted skin and stubbed, rounded fingers and toes, he came to realize the only thing that really mattered was the man who never gave up on him, even in his darkest hours.

"What'cha doin', El?" the gentle voice asked from the bedroom doorframe.

Ellis bowed his head, a smile playing about his lips. "Remembering," he spoke softly. He set the small shock collar back down upon the bedstand and faced his lover with a turn.

-Fin


End file.
